In the day-time he kept guard over his "shop," into which no one was allowed to enter, and the fame of his loom was so great that he had to watch over it with a gun.

At night he weaved, and when the result at last pleased him he made the linen into shirts, all of which he stitched together with his own hands, even to the buttonholes.

He sent one shirt to the Queen, and another to the Duchess of Athole, mentioning a very large price for them, which he got.

Then he destroyed his wonderful loom, and how it was made no one will ever know.

Johnny only took to literature after he had made his name, and he seldom spoke at the club except when ghosts and the like were the subject of debate, as they tended to be when the farmer of Muckle Haws could get in a word.